Graying Ambitions
by Miabia100
Summary: "There's something I have to apologize to you, I couldn't take your revenge, nor could I finish your dreams. I suppose under these circumstances, he didn't die at all he just lived through his brother." ((Steamtalia themed))


**Graying Ambitions**

**The Future Looks Grim, Alfred **

**This is a contest entry for a Steamtalia contest!**

**This takes place in Victorian England with a steampunk twist; you will be thrust into the mind of the young yet naïve Alfred Jones. I hope you are able to feel his hardships and the problems he faces with not only his brother but within himself. **

**I highly suggest listening to ****Any Other Name** **by Thomas Newman during this story as a light musical piece to fit the mood as it progresses. It may also help one become absorbed into the work, thank you.  
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"Stupid, stupid child! You can't fly_." I could feel the tears build up in my eyes as my brothers words flew through his mouth so easily, as if he'd completely ignored everything that had just come from mine, dreams and all. "Humans. Cannot. Fly. It's just not plausible." He continued, each word—each syllable, breaking at me with more and more force._

"_But…" He rose his hand up and took yet another sip of his earl gray, the bronze cup in his hands reflecting my face, my chubby cheeks stained red and my bright blue eyes a once zesty blue now downcast and broken. His words were just too careless to ignore, such ignorance and wave of the hand commentary. I'd just told my brother my life's goal; my dreams, and he'd crushed them, crushed them and thrown them into the furnace. I could smell the metal and the paint melt into a red goopy mess as it heated up. So many months burned away within seconds, and I couldn't do anything about it except stare in awe. Brilliant flames of rouge and indigo blended to create an array of purples, even as the red melted away across the aircraft even more colors arose creating a rainbow of magnificent variations, so pretty. Reborn after the death of nothing that could have been something. _

_A shame_

_"No but's Alfred, give up the pipe dream and grow up." I could hear the emphasis in his words, his thick accent paying tribute to his carelessness. He sounded like dad, his bushy eyebrows pushed down against his jewel-encrusted eyes, hidden behind golden frames full of screws and golden wheels galore. "Just be normal for once, I'm ashamed, _dad_ would have been ashamed…To raise a son who's so benighted and….and—!"_

"_Eccentric?" I questioned, my childlike voice cracking under his intense gaze. I gripped my palms harshly before dashing off down the hall to my room; the heated air filled my lungs causing me to cough. I hated it here, I hated the city, over polluted and full of people who's heads are on their shoulders, no one had their heads in the clouds, no one understood the true term of 'euphoria'. No one got me, no one…no one understood how hard it was to just imagine and pioneer something and it hurt to be alone. But I'd rather be alone than be stuck with these idiotic monstrosities they call machines. I hated it here. I just wanted to fly away into the clouds and live amongst the greats. Was that too much to ask for, some respect and a little bit of encouragement? Mom would have been ok with it. _

I could hear his voice in my head again, melodramatic and rather downing like a fly buzzing in ones ear. The age of the crying child that was reprimanded for playing with tools that did not belong to him was long gone. Apparently, so were the silly child like ideas of a flight filled world; at least Arthur thought so. I twiddled a bit with my instruments, the harsh steam and obsidian colored charcoal filling my lungs with a drive that no one could concur. It was my fuel, my smelly, bleak, sickening fuel. It fueled me to create; it fueled me to continue on my research and dedication for the next generation. I was sick of steam and oil, of the sickening scent of bronze and tin. So sick of it.

I'd show Arthur, I'd show him that I knew what I was doing. "Honestly, It can't be that hard to stick a pair of wings on someone's back." I whispered to myself as I searched for my hammer, the constant ringing and termers in my ear not stopping me, not one bit. "I'm losing time and energy but I won't dare stop, not until I can show him, rub it in his face like I said I would all those years ago." I felt a sudden burst of energy evoke inside me as I continued to pound and souder the metal and wood, into something never heard of.

I'd create something new and innovative, I'd pioneer aerodynamics with my idea's and turn them into a reality! I'd become one of the biggest names in history! I'd—

"Alfred."

I quickly turned to my side, up the wooden stairs that lead to the upper floors of the estate, filled with wealth galore, none of which I was interested in. Quickly and rather robotically, I placed all of my tools aside and laid my latest master piece under the working platform away from my emerald eyed older brother. They glared lightly down towards my works. "What is that, why are you down here at this dreadful hour?" He questioned, I knew how to answer this question skillfully and efficiently.

"No reason, I just wanted a breather." I pressed a small smile onto my smoke covered lips, Arthur only glared harder causing me to grimace under his harsh tendencies before he sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Honest."

"I know you're lying, you're in the basement for god sake Alfred! When are you going to stop this nonsense and grow up?! Get a job!? Get hitched!?" Arthur growled out, I allowed my face to fall with indifference with this stupid confrontation. He knew how stubborn I could be it was like fighting a mule; yet he could be more stubborn than even me, sadly.

"Never. This is going to be my life's work, my legacy why stop that?" I questioned back, the steam and constant puffs of polluted air of the city causing the awkward pauses to gain even more momentum. "I'm going to pioneer aviation." I stated firmly, my lips growing into a thin line as I glared my brother down, aged green clashing with prideful blue even from under my golden goggles he could see how angered I was becoming.

"I'm not wasting another penny on this idiotic work, weather you enjoy it or not it's worthless." Once again Arthur hadn't thought before stating his words, rather cold and calculating. He sighed with irritation before rolling his neck, his voice rather light and worn down, coated in sleep. "Just go to bed, it's late and I don't have time for this. We have an—

"_You_ have a meeting in the morning, I'll be staying down here thank you very much." I'd put my foot down on that one; I was not leaving until this was complete. "Goodnight to you." With that I turned my seat around and picked my work back up, much of it completed before sauntering once again. "_I said, goodnight to you_." I pounded the hammer harshly onto the steel sheet, I was tired of being told what to do by him, I was twenty-four for gods sake! I heard an aggravated poof of air from my side before stomps echoed up the stairs and into the upper levels of the estate. Peace at last.

Even without the approval of my older brother or the respect I deserved from others on my happiness I'd prove them wrong, all wrong. One day, I would fly across this big city of pollution and across the great blue to a new land, which no one knew. My ambitions would never gray, even when I did.

Although, I had no idea that it would come sooner than previously thought.

The scent of ale hit my nose like a brick wall, painful and bitter. I wrinkled my features and took a seat inside one of the many booths, eyed the men inside before waving them off. I pulled out my logbook and flipped trough a few designs, the majority of them being in the experimental stages; using materials like stone and even glass. But they were just combinations after all. I smiled while looking at old works, worn paper decorated in coffee and food stains over the years. I loved this little brown book with its silly side notes and childlike pencil markings. When I pushed up daisies I want the notebook to be buried with me; this treasure meant the world and was able to hold all of my imagination in bound cowhide.

I took a swig of my beer slowly, eyeing the pages, editing and sketching while the hours rolled by. I'd need to get home soon, Arthur would probably get upset if I came home too late plus I wanted to get a bit more work in. I threw a few shillings onto the tin countertop and pushed my way through the crowd of rather shady men, many of which were eying me down. I pulled my bag closer to my chest and opened the caverns door. I could still feel eyes on me but decided to ignore them.

I was approaching my stoop, my travels coming to an end. I saw a few people here and there but it was rather late so it was expected, the sun had settled long before I'd left the house and many of the children had already been sent to bed. It was late, very late. "I wonder if Arty's asleep already? Most likely, that old man can hardly stay awake passed ten!" Even though I lived in a rather large city it was deathly silent and very chilly despite only being early September. I shook off the stupid thoughts; having a chilling sensation at my side I rushed my way across the paved road in fear of nothing.

"Come on Alfred, this isn't like you." I looked about, turned my eyes left and then right only to see nothing, just the thrill of the night. I need to get out more often I chuckled to myself, deeming this night the beginning of my life jokingly.

I stopped in mid thought, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in my side almost like little needles pricking at my delicate flesh. Even as I tried to cry out, I felt the pain continue as whatever it was plunged its self, almost burrowing deep into me, mercilessly. I made odd noises, ones that resembled that of an infant; it was becoming unbearable. In and out, _in and out_, I could hear my own flesh make slosh noises almost pudding like. Unable to withstand the sudden energy drain I collapsed onto the concrete, somehow ending up in a back alley like discarded trash. Even as the killer climbed on top of me I couldn't make them out, it was like a shadow, the knife, gleamed under the cities candle lights. I could see chunks of my own throat strewn out across the pavement and the scent of blood, a nauseating scent, filled my nose and was let out from my mouth, bubbling over in a crimson river.

I was sure this was taking a lot of energy from the murderer as well but they didn't say a thing, nothing at all making this even worse. I felt like I was dying alone. "S-Stop.." I surprised myself by how weak my voice was, the blood caking everything. Still, no response, things were getting blurry now, it was damn near impossible to breath when finally they'd plunged the large knife deep into my chest, my eyes bugged out from their homes and my mouth sputtered a few more wads of blood.

Not yet, please oh god no, not yet, there was so much that needed to be done. So much work to complete. But it was all snatched away by a fatal encounter with a man I didn't even know, what was worse was that I felt my bag snatched from my dying grip before hearing steady footsteps jog away. _Click clack click clack, _the slosh of London echoing under his boot clad feet before even that too vanished.

I hated to say this, but I ended up dying with regrets, so _many_ damn regrets.

My work, my legacy, my life….all gone with the wind, a forgotten dream, it had finally become gray, like Arthur wanted…before I could even _start_ them they grayed!

I'm sorry for letting you down Arthur, I'm sorry for being a disappointment to everyone. Please forgive me.

Everything went black, for good this time.

**Extended ending:**

There's something I have to apologize to you, I couldn't take your revenge, nor could I finish your dreams. You are the boy that was taken too soon, a very very eccentric boy, I could never do you justice. Living all alone, it is very sad. That man that couldn't do anything except yell and ridicule, improved at his imagination, the plane he skillfully created under the instructions in that worn brown book. He presented it to the queen, under the instructions to mass-produce more in time of need and to also stick his brother's name in the history books. I suppose under these circumstances, Alfred didn't die at all he just lived through Arthur.

**End**


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